


Re-Ink-Arnation

by MsFaust



Series: Inky Tales [50]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-02-04 12:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12771072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsFaust/pseuds/MsFaust
Summary: Russell, Andre, Cynthia, and Wesley: four apparently ordinary teenagers who have entered Sillyvision Studios----------My 50th story in the Inky Tales series.Warning: Some details change during 'Rise and Fall'.





	1. Welcome Back to the Show

**Author's Note:**

> This continues from _Have You Heard the Rumors_ , which can be seen as a prequel to this story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Russell, Andre, Cynthia, and Wesley enter the studio, only to find there's a mystery afoot.

As the four teenagers stepped through the door, they were greeted with the sight of a dimly lit hallway, the walls lined with posters for episodes of The Bendy Show.

"Ooh, this is both creepy and cool at the same time," Russell said in awe. "Little Devil Darling, The Dancing Demon, Sheep Songs...think they ever came out on video?"

Making their way through the halls, the quartet came upon an open room, in which a strange machine sat.

"Ink Machine," Russell read. "What do you think that is?"

"Looks like something that belongs in the cartoon," commented Andre. "Wonder how you turn it on."

"Are you nuts?" Wesley gave him an incredulous look. "Why would you turn it on? You don't even know what it does."

"Let's go look around some more," Cynthia hastily suggested.

(BATIM)

"Yipe!" Wesley jumped back as a Bendy cutout popped out from the door he'd just opened.

"Get a grip, Wes," chuckled Andre, opening the door nearby. "Bacon Soup...sounds tasty."

Cynthia shrugged, picking up a tape recorder-like device sitting on a shelf between the two doors. She hit play, and a voice with a Brooklyn or Bostonian accent (she couldn't tell which) rang out.

"At this point, I don't get what Joey's plan is for this company. The animations sure aren't being finished on time anymore. And I certainly don't see why we need this...machine. It's noisy, it's messy, and who needs that much ink, anyway? Also, get this: Joey had each one of us donate something from our work stations. We put them on these little pedestals in the break room. To 'help appease the gods,' Joey says. 'Keep things going.' I think he's lost his mind, but hey, he writes the checks. But I'll tell you what: if one more of these pipes bursts, I'm outta here!"

Wesley raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like Drew was into the occult. Anyone else ready to leave?"

(BATIM)

"I can't believe we're doing this. I can't believe we're actually doing this."

"Okay, so we need an inkwell, a book, a record, a wrench, a doll, and a gear," Cynthia said. "I think I spotted a doll somewhere."

The four split up, searching the studio for the objects in question. Before long, they'd found everything but the wrench.

"Where's Russ with that stupid wrench?"

"HOLY--!"

Upon hearing Russell's shout, the other three ran over to join him, only to be met with a horrifying sight. Lying on a metal slab was what appeared to be the corpse of a cartoon wolf, its chest cut open with ribs exposed and organs missing. On a nearby wall, the message _Who's Laughing Now?_ was written.

"Is-is that supposed to be Boris?" Andre asked, covering his mouth in horror. "Why would anyone do that to a cartoon character?"

Wesley wanted to say something about the body not being real, but he was too busy trying not to throw up. Russell, who had a stronger stomach, had spotted the wrench inside the wolf's chest, and had started to remove it, being careful not to cause any more damage.

"That is so gross," whimpered Cynthia, shutting her eyes in disgust.

"Well, I got it." Russell held up the wrench. "Let's head back."

(BATIM)

After setting the items on the pedestal and hitting the pressure switch, the group headed back to the Ink Machine, only to discover the room was boarded up.

"What the...? Who put these here?"

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, Wesley approached, only to leap back with a scream as a monstrous form popped up. The inky creature, whose grin was reminiscent of the cartoon demon, swiped at them with a claw. Without hesitation, all four took off running as ink began to cover the walls, floor, and even the ceiling.

"I told you coming here was a bad idea!" shouted Wesley.

"Shut up and keep running!" Cynthia shouted back.

Just as they were almost to the door, the four teens felt the floor give way underneath them. Down they plummeted, landing in a heap several floors below.

"Owww...that hurt."

"Whoever has their hand on my butt had better remove it."

"Sorry, Cyn!"

"Damnit," remarked Andre, as he got to his feet. "If we're gonna get out, we need to find another way. This stairwell's flooded."

"Hang on," said Cynthia, picking up another recorder. "Maybe this'll help."

She hit play, and a gravelly voice began to speak.

"It's dark and it's cold and it's stuck in behind every single wall now. In some places, I swear this godforsaken ink is clear up to my knees! Whoever thought that these crummy pipes could hold up under this kind of strain either knows something about pressure I don't, or he's some kind of idiot. But the real worst part about all this...are them noises the system makes. Like a dying dog on its last legs. Make no mistake, this place...this...machine...heck, this whole darn thing...it just isn't natural. You can bet, I won't be doing any more repair jobs for Mister Joey Drew."

Grabbing hold of the valve, Russell turned it, and the ink began to drain. The group made their way down, pausing to turn two more valves. As they reached a boarded-up pathway, Russell noticed an axe and a message written on the wall.

"The Creator Lied To Us. Dunno what that means, but I got a bad feeling about it."

He took the axe and broke the boards. The room on the other side contained a pentagram surrounded by five small candles. There were also a few chairs, a poster for _The Dancing Demon_ , and three large coffins.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," Wes muttered. "This whole thing was a bad idea."


	2. All the Taunts and the Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forced to search for another way out, the quartet make their way through the music department, as more clues reveal themselves.

Having caught their breath, the four made their way out of the strange room, descending a set of stairs. At the bottom lay an altar of some sort, with the words _He Will Set Us Free_ written next to an image of Bendy. Obviously, the altar was dedicated to him.

"Do we really have to go this way?" whimpered Cynthia.

"Got any other idea how we're gonna get out?" Andre quietly retorted.

Wesley, meanwhile, had located another recorder. Shushing his friends, he hit play.

"He appears from the shadows to rain his sweet blessings upon me. The figure of ink that shines in that darkness. I see you, my savior. I pray you hear me. Those old songs? Yes, I still sing them, for I know you are coming to save me, and I will be swept into your final, loving embrace. But...love requires sacrifice. Can I get an amen?"

"I said, can I get an amen?"

All four teens jumped at the sound of the voice, looking around but seeing no one.

"Who said that?"

Russell narrowed his eyes. "And why did he sound familiar?"

"Now that you mention it..." Cynthia put one hand to her temple. "I feel like I heard that voice before too."

A brief image flashed through her mind--a man with reddish-blonde hair talking to an older man with a slight goatee. The redhead seemed upset about something, but she didn't hear what he was saying.

"Cyn?"

The dark-haired girl glanced over at Russell. "Sorry, just...thinking."

They reached a long hallway, with several wooden planks floating in an ankle-deep pool of ink. Grimacing, Russell held the axe a little higher as he stepped in. As they waded through the pool, Wesley suddenly caught sight of a figure walking past the doorway at the other end, carrying a Bendy cutout.

"Hey!"

If the figure heard Wesley, it ignored him. Upon reaching the other end, they saw no sign of the figure.

"Where'd he go?"

Cynthia shrugged, looking down at her ink-soaked shoes in disgust. "Ick, these are completely ruined."

(BATIM)

Russell leaned against the wall, catching his breath. "What...the hell...were those things?"

"No idea," gasped Andre, holding up the banjo he'd grabbed as an improvised weapon. Surprisingly, it was still in pretty good condition.

"Can we come out now?"

"Yeah, they're gone."

With a sigh of relief, Wesley emerged from the west passage, Cynthia following a moment later. "I think I might have an idea of how we're going to drain that mess in the stairwell...

(BATIM)

"So I'm guessing these are the instruments we need to play to open the sanctuary," mused Cynthia. "Wes, what was the order again?"

"Bass fiddle, drum, piano, banjo," Wesley recited, picking up the bass. "Russ, take the drum. Cyn, you play the piano."

Unfortunately, playing the instruments didn't seem to do anything. Wes was about to suggest they try again, only to be cut off by Andre hollering from the projection booth above.

"Hang on a sec, guys. Listen."

He held up a tape recorder, and hit play.

"Every day the same strange thing happens, I'll be up here in my booth, the band will be swinging, and suddenly Sammy Lawrence just comes marching in and shuts the whole thing down. Tells us all to wait in the hall. Then I hear him. He starts up my projector, and he dashes from the projection booth and down to the recording studio like the little devil himself was chasing behind. Few seconds later, the projector turns off. But Sammy, oh no, he doesn't come out for a long time. This man is weird. Crazy weird. I got half a mind to talk to Mr. Drew about all this, I really do. But then again, I have to admit. Mr. Drew has his own peculiarities."

Andre gave a brief shiver, the image of a man working the projector flashing through his mind. Then he turned to the projector and flipped it on, a cartoon beginning to play.

"Try it now."

Catching on, they tried playing the instruments again. As they finished, there was a clicking.

"Looks like it worked," Andre noted happily. "Come on."

As the boys headed out, Cynthia paused, picking up another tape recorder she'd found while searching.

"It may only be my second month working for Joey Drew, but I can already tell I'm gonna love it here! People really seem to enjoy my Alice Angel voice. Sammy says she may be as popular as Bendy some day. These past few weeks I have voiced everything from talking chairs to dancing chickens. But this is the first character I really felt a connection with. Like she's a part of me. Alice and I, we are going places."

A sudden feeling of uneasiness came over Cynthia. The image of a woman with short blonde hair cheerfully recording lines in a sound booth popped into her mind. Only a second later, another image--that of a red-haired woman looking at the blonde with equal parts admiration and envy--followed.

"Come on, Cyn, let's go!" Russell hollered.

Shaking herself, Cynthia followed her friends out.

_This place is starting to get to me..._


	3. There's Ghosts In the Hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sacrifice attempt is made, the teens have a narrow escape, and two allies are found.

As it turned out, there were two valves needed to drain the ink in front of Sammy's office, so they had to split up into pairs. Andre and Cynthia waited outside the office door while Russell and Wesley went looking. Fortunately, it didn't take long for the two boys to find it in the infirmary.

Once they saw the ink drain away in front of the office, Cynthia entered the office and activated the pump control, while Andre kept watch in case more Searchers showed up.

"There we go," she said, emerging from the office. "Now let's meet up at the stairwell."

Unfortunately, while their walk there was unimpeded, and the stairwell was clear, there was no sign of Russell or Wesley.

"Oh, this ain't good," Andre muttered. "Where the hell are they?"

A noise from behind caught their attention. Clutching his banjo tightly, Andre turned, only to stop in surprise.

(BATIM)

"There we go now, nice and tight. We wouldn't want our sheep roaming away now, would we? No, we wouldn't."

Russell's head swam as he slowly regained consciousness. He and Wesley had been on their way to meet up with Andre and Cynthia, but something had hit him from behind and knocked him out.

Blinking, he looked up, only to see what looked like a man made of ink standing before him, dressed in a pair of overalls and wearing part of a Bendy cutout as a mask.

"I must admit I am honored you came all the way down here to visit me. It almost makes what I'm about to do seem cruel. But the believers must honor their savior. I must have him notice me."

"Who--?" Beside him, Wesley had woken up as well.

"Ah, you are awake as well. That is good, for our lord is calling to us, my little sheep. The time of sacrifice is at hand! And then, after all these years, I will finally be freed from this...prison. This inky...dark...abyss I call a body."

"Sammy? Sammy Lawrence?" Wesley asked in confusion.

"That can't be." Russell shook his head. "All of the Sillyvision Survivors left down after the studio closed."

"You're right," Wesley agreed. "According to the research I did back at our hotel last night, they're all living elsewhere, and doing fine."

"Shhhhh! Quiet!" The man hushed the boys. "Listen! I can hear him. Crawling above. Crawling! Let us begin. The ritual must be completed! Soon he will hear me...he will set us free."

With that, the man turned and walked off, entering a nearby room and closing the door behind him. A moment later, the speakers crackled to life.

"Sheep, sheep, sheep, it's time for sleep. Rest your head. It's time for bed. In the morning, you may wake. Or in the morning, you'll be dead."

"Please tell me that's not how that song originally went," Wesley half-pleaded, struggling with the ropes.

"Don't think it would have gotten past the censors if it was," Russell replied.

"Hear me, Bendy! Arise from the darkness! Arise and claim my offering! Free me! I beg you! I summon you, ink demon! Show your face and take this tender sheep!"

"Hang on, almost...got it!"

As soon as he was free, Russell immediately untied Wesley, just as a shrill cry echoed throughout the room.

"No! My lord! Stay back! I am your prophet! I am your--AAAHHH!!"

The boys only had a moment to look at each other in surprise before several Searchers appeared. Hastily grabbing the axe lying nearby, Russell dispatched them before he and Wesley hightailed it out of the room.

(BATIM)

"Where could they be?" Cynthia looked over at the doorway nervously.

"No idea," Andre said worriedly. "Kinda wish we had walkie-talkies or something."

Just as he was about to turn away, he saw ink starting to flow down the walls outside. A moment later, Russell and Wesley came running towards them, with 'Bendy' hot on their heels.

"Shut the door!" Wesley shouted as they ran into the room.

Andre immediately slammed the door as 'Bendy' got close, practically throwing the board to latch it.

"Oh, man, that was way too close." Russell collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.

"Are you guys OK?" Cynthia asked. "What happened?"

"That ink guy knocked us out," Russell explained. "He tried to sacrifice us to that thing, but it attacked him instead."

"Then, while we were trying to find you two, it popped out of an ink pond," Wesley continued, wiping his glasses. "Russell threw his axe at it like a complete moron--"

"I panicked, okay?"

"--and so we had to run for it."

Before either of the other two could say anything, there was a sound from behind them. Turning, they saw an empty can rolling across the floor.

"Oh yeah," Andre said. "It's OK, you two. Come on out."

For a second, nothing happened. Then a familiar wolf walked out from behind a corner, followed by a small cartoon demon.

"Boris?" Russell asked. "Bendy?"


	4. Welcome to Our Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bendy, Boris, and the four kids catch their breath, and agree to team up in order to escape.

A short time later, the four humans and two Toons had found their way to a small series of rooms. There, Bendy had Boris started telling them what they knew about the situation.

"Neother of us knows exactly when we were created, but it was definitely after the studio shut down," Bendy began. "We've been in here pretty much our whole lives."

"Joey said if we left, bad things could happen to us," said Boris.

"People would definitely notice a couple of living cartoon characters," Wesley said with a nod. "And who knows how they'd react?"

"So what about the monsters?" asked Russell. "Where'd they come from?"

"And what about Joey?" inquired Andre. "He still around?"

"We haven't seen Joey in a while," Boris admitted. "But most of the monsters came from the Machine."

"The Searchers do," Bendy corrected him. "And there's a few others. But there are a few who weren't always made of ink."

"You mean they used to be human?" Cynthia asked in horror.

"Most of the people who worked here left before the studio closed down. Those who didn't..." Boris looked down, shuffling his feet. "Well, it's a good thing nobody who left ever came back."

"So that wasn't Sammy back there?" Wesley asked.

"No," Bendy answered. "I don't know who or what that guy was, but he wasn't Sammy."

There was a brief pause, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall. Finally, Russell spoke up.

"Aside from you two, are there any others here?"

Bendy tapped his chin in thought. "You mean any other Toons? Well, there's Alice and the Butcher Gang, but I dunno where they are."

Boris was about to say something, but Bendy held up a hand. "Those clones don't count, and neither does the crazy lady. I don't care what she says, she ain't Alice."

"We'll help you find them," Russell said. "And then we're all leaving."

"I don't know about that..." said Boris worriedly. "It's really dangerous. Can't we just stay here where it's safe?"

"Not forever," Andre reminded him. "My friends and I need to get out, you know."

"But..."

"Why don't I heat up some soup first?" Cynthia suggested. "Maybe it'll help you feel a little better."


	5. Possible Discontinuation?

As some of you may be aware, I have issues with certain characters being harmed. In fact, regardless of what canon says, as far as I'm concerned, the characters on my safety list are all OK, asterisked or otherwise.

Since reading about those characters being harmed tends to make me upset (some more than others), I have been trying to avoid doing so. Unfortunately, this means I need to avoid the BATIM wiki as much as possible, which severely hampers my ability to parallel canon, even if I don't do it to the same degree as the rest of you. As this story requires some use of the wiki, it is quite likely that I may have to discontinue Re-Ink-Arnation.

I will still put details about this AU on [Inky Realities](https://inkyrealities.tumblr.com) (my BATIM AU collection blog) but unless I can find a way to get accurate details without making myself upset, it's unlikely I will be going any further with this story.

For those of you who wished to see this story complete, you have my sincerest apologies. I just can't find a way to do the research needed to get this story right without driving myself into despair. No writer should be forced to do that.


End file.
